Page 7 of Until Death or Defeat

“Did I speak in an ancient tongue?”

My head shakes as I clench my fists. “No.”

“Good, then you understand.”

My leg bounces at a pace I didn’t even know was possible.

I hesitate, but nod my head, not able to look him in the eye.

“Then, congratulations,pakhan.” He stands from his seat and I rise with him, he shakes my hand and leaves the office.

I stand there, motionless and unblinking as I process what he’s just told me.

This must be a cruel fucking joke from the universe; my punishment for what happened to Sara.

There’s no way I can refuse my father’s demand. Losingpakhanand disappointing my father are two things that I will never allow to happen. The third was supposed to be not letting what happened to Sara happen again.

And now I know that it fucking will.

I storm off to my room, and when I walk in everything comes crashing down on me at once.

“Artem, please, you can tell me anything, I told you nothing is too much for me. I’m ready for this, everything.” She playfully pulls and pushes my hand, her cute smile forcing one from my lips. “I want to be in your life, your world, I want to be your everything.”

This can’t be happening again.

“What the hell are you crying for, Artem?” My father’s cold expression cuts through me like a blade. He sees her body as he steps closer, not even giving her a second glance. “Get up, do you think the son of apakhancan spare tears?”

The room spins as I bring my fists to my ears, forcing my eyes shut.

“If you come, you have to stay where I can see you,” I say with a grin, giving in to her too easily. I love how she embraces me and the messed-up world I was born into, I love?—

“You fucking idiot!” My fist finds the wall, my knuckles twitching from the painful impact as I let them bleed. I won’t make the same mistakes again.

The next morning, I have a late start. My head pounds from the lack of sleep and heavy drinking as I make my way downstairs to grab a cup of coffee.

“Oh look, our brand newpakhanemerges for breakfast at last!” Max teases as he cooks bacon on the pan.

“Shut the fuck up.” I sit down at the island, reaching for a mug.

He and Roman exchange a glance. “Jeez bro, you know you’ll get wrinkles by scowling like that. What would yourfiancéesay?”

His laughter rings in my head as I slam my fist on the counter, making both of them look up at me.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke, Maxim? Is this funny to you?” I step up to where Max is cooking and Roman quickly goes between us and puts his hand on my chest.

“Okay, okay, take a deep breath,” he assures in a calm voice. He glances at us both as I run my hand through my hair and turn to walk a few steps away, trying to collect myself.

“I know you guys hate each other, but you’re taking this worse than I expected. I mean you only have to pretend to be cordial in public.”

Roman foolishly thinks the reason for my rage is that I have to simply interact with her more.

“I don’t fuckingwantto be seen with her in public.”

Max furrows his brows, “Why? I mean she’s a little batshit, but otherwise she’s hot, and she’s smart. Plus, she’s technically like a goddamn mafia princess. It only makes sense she would marry up the ladder; you’re probably both better off this way.”

I sigh deeply as I shake my head, my tongue darting over my bottom lip.

“Better off? Motherfucker, do you think she’s better off leaving her safe little bubble and into our life?”